All In A Day's Work
by Shellie Williams
Summary: Some days are better than others. McGee and Tony go through the same day, but one comes out a bit more worn than the other.AN This is a little snippet that OzGeek requested many moons ago, when we both had the time and energy to exchange story ideas.


All In a Day's Work

by Shellie Williams

McGee squirmed in his seat, attempting to find a position that didn't put more pressure on his already painful bruises. He stole a quick glance at Tony, next to him in the car, and tried not to let his irritation at the older man show. They'd both been through the same trying day, albeit McGee with a little less rest under his belt, yet somehow Tony still managed to look all GQ and Sean Connery-ish in his expensive Armani suit. Granted, McGee's outfit probably hit around the same dollar mark, but his jacket and slacks seemed to seek out crumples and stains, rather than repel them.

A long-suffering sigh gushed heartily from McGee's mouth before he could curtail his emotions. He sat up a little straighter when he sensed Tony's focus slant his way.

"What's the matter, McGee; the long day finally getting to you?"

Chagrinned at being caught, McGee quickly decided that denial would be the easiest road to travel here. "No, just thinking."

Tony smirked and slid his eyes back to the $65/a night hotel room they'd been watching for the past five hours. "About what; this morning when you could have stayed with Abby and wiled away the hours talking Science-geek over the mystery substance found at the crime scene? Instead, you opted to accompany me to apprehend our victim turned suspect, and cleverly pounded his fists with your ribs."

McGee grunted in remembered pain and pressed a palm gingerly to his side.

"Or maybe you're remembering later today, when you decided to trade me for Ziva, and how the two of you ended up in a barroom brawl because Ziva told that unruly cowboy to "hold your hussy" when we both know she meant "horses." Unfortunately, the cowboy's companion wasn't so understanding, and she decided to express her displeasure with a right hook. Ziva ducked – you didn't."

McGee touched the tender, swollen area around his right eye. The bruises made him look as if he'd applied eyeliner and make-up this morning. The skin stretched painfully tight as he yawned. "No, Tony, I wasn't thinking about any of that." His eyes watered with another yawn and he shook his head to rid himself of the gathering cobwebs clogging his brain. "I was thinking about how nice it would feel to stretch out in my bed right now."

"That's the price of fame, my friend. You didn't _have _to book two autograph sessions back to back."

"Yeah. I should speak to my secretary about that." The curl of irony he'd meant to thread around his words unraveled with another yawn.

"I'll let you know if something happens. Why don't you take a break –"

Needing no further encouragement, McGee closed his eyes. Tony's voice receded as consciousness slowly bled away. McGee's body relaxed as muscles surrendered to oblivion, but abruptly tightened again as an elbow jabbed rudely into his tender ribs.

"Sorry, McGee, you'll have to schedule the beauty nap for later. Corbin's on the move."

His focus still a bit bleary, McGee fumbled for the door handle and followed behind Tony.

"He's on foot, must have seen us or something." Tony threw the hissed explanation over his shoulder. "You take the left and I'll go right. There's no where else to go, so he's got to come past one of us."

Nodding, McGee crossed left behind Tony toward the alley between the hotel and the apartment building next door. The city seemed far away as brick walls muffled sound and entombed everything in darkness. A shout sent McGee racing. The figure running ahead of him didn't have Tony's height or weight. _Corbin._ Tucking his gun away quickly, McGee had time for one irrelevant thought: _This is going to hurt_, before launching himself at Corbin. They hit the ground with a bone-rattling jar, forcing a grunt from McGee.

Confused, scrambling to disentangle from the jumble of elbows and knees, McGee searched frantically for a foothold. Just as he found his feet, a fist rushed at him and pounded into the side of his head. Bright stars burst against the blackness of his closed eyelids.

Blindly, McGee reached out and latched on with the tenacity of a bulldog. He found his arms around Corbin's knees and felt the big man go down, again. This time, an "oof" of pain rushed out of Corbin. Feeling the struggle go out of his quarry, McGee blinked to clear his vision and pushed himself from the ground. Grasping his gun, he drew aim on Corbin, but couldn't seem to catch his breath, so he stood there, gasping for air.

Running footsteps announced Tony's arrival. Taking in the situation at a glance, he knelt beside Corbin and cuffed his hands behind his back. Sirens wailed as Tony stood. The darkness of the alley began to strobe with red and blue lights.

"Gibbs is on his way." He patted McGee on the shoulder. "I've got this. Why don't you go sit down in the car before you fall down."

McGee lowered his weapon, ignoring the faint trembling of his fingers as he put his gun away. Exhaustion dragged heavy on his eyelids and the weight of the day abruptly sat like two anvils on his shoulders. Nodding in agreement, McGee stumbled past Tony back toward the car. The FBI and other NCIS agents had shown up by now, and were streaming through the area.

McGee sleepwalked to the car. He collapsed into his seat. Sleep found him almost immediately. A snore rumbled contentedly in his chest.

A few minutes later, Tony approached the car. At first missing McGee's silhouette, he smiled when he recognized the familiar form, slumped low in the seat. Thinking the position couldn't be very comfortable for bruised ribs, Tony reached in and cupped the back of McGee's head. With a gentle push of his shoulder, McGee turned and slid to his back. Smiling fondly in the anonymity of McGee's unconsciousness, Tony checked his heartbeat. Finding it steady, and his pupils equally dilated, Tony leaned back and allowed McGee to rest.

A presence materialized at his elbow. He turned to find Gibbs with a worried frown on his face. "Is he all right?"

Tony took a moment to survey the damage. The colorful bruise on McGee's face had been joined in duet with a reddening lump high on his cheekbone. One arm thrown across his body, fingers curled protectively against sore ribs. Short hair disheveled, clothes dirty, torn and rumpled.

"Yeah," Tony finally answered. "He's just had a rough day."

Satisfied, Gibbs nodded and slapped Tony gently on the arm. "Stay with him. Make sure he gets checked out by one of the paramedics."

"On it, boss."

Gibbs left. Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the car, keeping watch while McGee slept.

The End 


End file.
